Discover Top Posts Tagged with #bathroomlaw

Trans right shirt https://www.redbubble.com/people/lafrancedesigns/works/26985591-bathroom-rights-shirt?p=triblend-tee&style=triblend-tee&body_color=black_triblend&print_location=front #transgender #bathroombill #bathroomlaw #transrights #transpride #whichever #transman #transwoman #takingdowntheman #equality #tshirts #coffeecup #travelmug

#takingdowntheman #transpride #transrights #whichever #bathroomlaw #tshirts #coffeecup #transgender #transman #equality #travelmug #transwoman #bathroombill

How public bathroom signs should read. ##bathroomlaw #transgender #man #woman #whocares #washyourhands (at gender-neutral Bathroom)

#whocares #transgender #man #woman #bathroomlaw #washyourhands

Repost @mileycyrus: agreed. #transrights #transgender #peequality #unisex #inclusion #inclusive #intersectionalfeminism #humanrights #trans #transisbeautiful #bathroombill #beinclusive #bathroomlaw #bathroom #segregation

#peequality #trans #bathroomlaw #bathroom #transisbeautiful #humanrights #unisex #inclusion #intersectionalfeminism #transrights #inclusive #beinclusive #transgender #segregation #bathroombill

They walk in

He looks at the sign on the door. Blinks. It's not right. No, it's not right. He wants to jostle someone passing through the hallway, passing time quickly running out, and ask them, does this look right? And they'll say no, and he'll walk to the sign that says "MEN". When he asks this time, no one will question him. But there is no one who will stop. Passing time is running out. There is no one to shake sense into because no one has time for sense. Or they do have time for sense, just no time for him. Passing time is running out. Time is running out. Running. He wants to run out. If no one will listen he doesn't want to be among them. He doesn't want to feel the heavy gaze the assistant principal has trained on his back. He adjusts the straps of his bag, hunches over, and walks in. The door swings shut behind him and he is assaulted with the sounds of voices, female voices, voices unlike his but he remembers them, god, how they haunted him. How stupid he was to get used to the peace of not dealing with those voices. How stupid to believe things could change. A wall of bitterness rises in him, and he walks out. But she stares at the door now, her hand clutching the handle so tight she thinks it may be cutting into her palm. She thinks this can't be real. The door opens, and he walks out. He catches her eye, reaches out. Catches her hand. Squeezes it, not how she squeezed the handle, no. Squeezes it to comfort her, and something tightens in her chest because she can see his binder poking out on his right collar bone and she knows. This is real. But just because it's real doesn't mean it's concrete, god no. They can walk into reality, and tell it you belong to me. Because it does, doesn't it? She, she and he, them, they, we can walk through the right doors because those doors are our reality. Break their sandcastle, please. They'll just build it up again. She knows this is real. She stands in front of the men's bathroom and acknowledges this is real. But so is his hand, clutching hers, willing her to believe in something good. And so she does. And so she steps just ten steps to the left, and she traces her finger over the word. "WOMEN". She walks in.